The Tapestry
by LalaithElerrina
Summary: "…and it was then that Elrond first saw Celebrían, and loved her, though he said nothing of it." –J.R.R. Tolkien, Unfinished Tales


The Tapestry

Elrond strode over the stone floor of his study, toward the window through which he peered for perhaps the hundredth time in the last few minutes, before turning and gazing down at his feet, almost surprised not to see a groove in the stone from all his pacing. He released a breath through rounded lips, struggling to still the beating of his heart. The eternal roar of the falls surrounding Imladris sounded in his ears, usually a comforting, familiar sound, but today his soul was roiling.

Galadriel was here in Rivendell. At last.

For ages she had been the closest thing to a mother that he had on these shores, and he wanted to please her. What would she think of him, now? Would she be proud of all he had done? But-

It was not her coming that sent Elrond's heart into his throat. It was her daughter's. The daughter of Galadriel and Celeborn, was here as well.

_Celebrían_.

The name of the maid whom he had heard much of, but whom he had never met in person echoed in his mind, and his heart quickened. He looked through the wide window, at the high rising cliffs and gleaming falls of his home. What did the daughter of Galadriel think of all this? What would she think- of him?

"Elrond!"

The voice he knew so well rang welcome in his ears, and Elrond spun to see Celeborn striding through the door of his study. A hopeful breath swelled in Elrond's chest to see the silver haired lord grinning broadly.

"They're coming?"

"They are," Celeborn returned. His face fairly glowed, and Elrond grinned.

Celeborn had gone to greet his wife and daughter at their arrival, and looked more filled with light and merriment than he had in a very long time.

"You look well," Elrond said.

"My family does that for me," Celeborn returned, clapping a hand upon the dark haired elf's arm. "Especially my lady, whom I have missed dreadfully."

Elrond grinned wryly at these last words, and Celeborn grinned.

"One day, soon, you will find a lady of your own, Elrond," he said. "And then you will understand."

"In good time, my lord," Elrond said, feeling warmth climbing to his face, to which Celeborn chuckled lightly.

"Truly, though," he said, sobering, "thank you for letting me greet them on my own. It was indeed very pleasant to reunite with my daughter and wife after I have been parted from them for so long."

To this, Elrond nodded, wondering if he should tell Celeborn the true reason he had not accompanied his friend to meet his wife and daughter. Though why he should be so- afraid to meet a harmless maiden, he could not say.

"Elrond!"

Both he and Celeborn turned at the welcome sound of Galadriel's glad voice.

"My lady!" Elrond greeted as Galadriel, clad in a white gown, as warm and welcome as a beam of sunlight, glided across the room toward him.

Elrond bowed to her, but Galadriel only laughed, and moved forward, embracing him.

"It is wonderful to see you again," she murmured. She smelled of flowers and spring.

"And you, my lady," he murmured in return. "It has been far too long."

She grasped his shoulders; her hands were strong for a woman's, and pushed him back.

"Indeed it has, my young lord," she returned.

She smiled into his eyes, then turned her gaze beyond his shoulder to her husband. Her smile grew mischievous then as she moved to greet Celeborn. She clasped his hands, and accepted Celeborn's gentle kiss, their eyes trading unspoken secrets, shining like young lovers as they drew apart, and turned again toward the young lord of Imladris.

"Forgive Celebrían for not arriving with me," Galadriel said. "She wished to come more slowly so that she might enjoy the beauty of the valley as she walked. She is most pleased with the gardens and flowers, and the many grand waterfalls."

Elrond swallowed. "Is she?"

Celeborn and Galadriel traded a glance at this, Celeborn's brow lifting.

Elrond drew in a deep breath. Had there been something intangible in his tone to give the maiden's parents pause?

"This is a beautiful vale," Galadriel offered, reaching her free hand out and touching Elrond's forearm. "You have been most productive."

"Thank you, my lady."

Galadriel turned her gaze inward, and her eyes moved over the shelves of books, Elrond's table, strewn with books and maps. Perhaps somewhat untidy, he realized.

But her eyes did not linger on the cluttered table. Rather they lifted to a pair of tapestries hanging upon the opposite wall, and paused.

Elrond watched the lady's eyes gleam with sheen of wetness, and followed her gaze.

An indrawn breath from the lady told Elrond easily enough that she recognized the woman upon the tapestry, and the man upon the matching tapestry at her side. Both as lifelike as he remembered.

"They- would be proud of you." Galadriel said softly. "Of all you have achieved."

Elrond sighed, lifting his eyes to the faces of his brother, lordly, noble, and his sister in law, as queenly and beautiful as he remembered. The pair upon the tapestries seemed to turn slightly, one to the other, their hands outreaching as if to clasp. Behind them, half upon one tapestry and half upon the other, rose the great mountain of Meneltarma as it had been before-

Elrond cleared his throat. "Tindómiel wove them," he said, hearing his voice thickening.

"_Their daughter?"_

Elrond only nodded.

"As a gift for their hundredth wedding anniversary." Elrond drew in a breath. "But Tindómiel gave them to me, after-"

He could not finish his words. A gentle hand touched his arm and Galadriel's eyes offered him unspoken understanding.

"She was as gifted as her mother," the lady said softly.

"She was," Elrond agreed and nodded across the open room to another tapestry, smaller, but bright, its colors unfaded despite the centuries since its creation.

The elf maiden of his dreams, the tapestry that Andreth had woven for his ninetieth begetting day hung to the right of the doorway before a small table bearing a bowl of flowers. The maid, whose bright eyes shone with an almost lifelike light, held a blue-petaled flower in her hand, and almost appeared to be reaching for another of the flowers in the bowl, her eyes lifted as she looked outward from the tapestry in a gesture of surprised greeting.

Galadriel turned and smiled at the sight of the tapestry. "Andreth's tapestry," she said with a grin. "I remember now. It-"

The golden haired lady's words cut off, and Elrond glanced over at her, curious at the look of wonder that had fallen over Galadriel's face.

"How-" she paused a long moment, "very- curious," she said slowly, the last word leaving her mouth as a voice sounded from the pillared walkway beyond the door.

A sweet and light voice, playful as she called merrily "Nana?" a voice he had never heard before, yet one that sounded strangely familiar.

A moment later, a figure breezed through the door, fair and welcome as a beam of sunlight, a small blue flower clasped in one hand.

Elrond's heart stopped.

Her eyes did not meet Elrond's eyes at first, going instead, toward the bowl of flowers.

"Ah," the maiden sighed, and stepped toward it, moving between the table and the tapestry behind her. "So many fair flowers that grow in this peaceful vale. Truly, Mother-"

As she reached for the flowers in the basin, her eyes lifted, meeting Elrond's stunned gaze for the first time across the space between them. She paused, and an expression of pleased surprise crossed her face.

Elrond could not speak.

"Great Valar-" Celeborn breathed at his side, and Galadriel drew in a breath.

"Celebrían-" she murmured, her tone grown soft as Celeborn's.

A slow breath escaped Elrond as he studied the maid, a nearly exact image of the tapestry behind her, from the flower in her hand, to her extended hand reaching outward for something beyond the image of the tapestry, to the expression of welcome surprise upon her face. Even her garments matched the maiden in the tapestry.

"My Lord Elrond," Celebrían greeted, and turned, coming forward, unaware of the astonished looks upon her parents' faces for her eyes fixed only upon Elrond, her fair cheeks taking on an alluring flush.

"It is such an honor to meet you at last."

She paused a step away from him, and dropped in an elegant curtsy.

"And you, my lady," Elrond managed at last, stepping from Celeborn's side and offering her a bow, his eyes ever on her face. To the last detail, she was as the maiden he had seen in his dreams for so many centuries.

His heart, which had seemed to have stopped at her entrance, thundered now within him with such force that he wondered if she could hear it.

"This valley is beautiful, my lord," she murmured, gracefully straightening.

"Made all the more beautiful by your presence," he heard himself say.

The color in her face only darkened further as her eyes dropped shyly.

"Thank you," she whispered, the rise and fall of her breath quickening as she spoke.

"You are most welcome."

Elrond remained still a moment longer, the wonder of the moment still weighted upon him. She had come at last. The maiden of his dreams. Beautiful, soft, desirable. Warm and real. The maiden he had dreamed of and longed for, for ages. Were he to reach out, he would- _touch_ her. At last.

Drawing in a sudden breath, he came again to himself, growing aware of her parents at his side, and lifted his eyes, first to Galadriel's, then to Celeborn's. Neither spoke, but both of their expressions told him they had seen their daughter's resemblance to the tapestry as well. What it meant to them, perhaps they did not yet know. And perhaps now was not the time to speak of it.

But Elrond already knew. Celebrían was the maiden of his dreams. The woman he had been coming to love for centuries.

"I pray you, my lord, accept this small token as my thanks for your generosity."

She held out her free hand, and offered him the small blue flower. The image of the flower the maiden in the tapestry had held in her fair grasp for centuries.

"I will," he said softly, taking the flower from her hand. "And I will treasure it."

Celebrían smiled at this, and as their fingers touched, warmth pulsed through his body from the point where her fingers made contact, and Elrond drew in a ragged breath, and drew his hand slowly back, holding now to the cool stem of the small flower.

"A meal has been prepared in anticipation of your coming, my lady, and your mother's" he managed to say at last. "Would you do me the honor of allowing me to escort you to supper?"

He stepped forward, and offered her his arm.

Celebrían smiled, and reached out, slipping her arm through his.

"It would be my honor, my lord," she said, and her eyes gleamed with warmth and gratitude.

Hope swelled in Elrond's heart at this, and at the light in her eyes. And he returned her smile.

~oOo~

"…and it was then that _Elrond first saw Celebrían_**,** and loved her, though he said nothing of it." –J.R.R. Tolkien, Unfinished Tales


End file.
